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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22583257">The Year that Never Was</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildtrak/pseuds/wildtrak'>wildtrak</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ethical Dilemmas, Inappropriate Use of the Speed Force (The Flash TV 2014), M/M, Medical Experimentation, Medical Procedures, Not Beta Read, Questionable Physics, Romance, Schmoop, Slow Burn, Speed Force, Temporary Character Death, Time Loop, Time Shenanigans, but not that slow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 12:34:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>16,879</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22583257</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildtrak/pseuds/wildtrak</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After an experiment to stop time goes awry, Barry is trapped in a silent world where everything is stuck on pause. With no idea how to undo the mistake, Barry makes the dangerous decision to use one of the remaining two vials of an experimental serum to wake Oliver. </p><p>Set during Flash 2x12, Canon divergent from Arrow 4x08.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Barry Allen/Oliver Queen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>106</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harry had said that it might hurt. Barry can safely say that was the understatement of the century. The pain and shock is strong enough to feel on a molecular level—he must have had a seizure if the muscle aches, drool and tear tracks on his face are anything to go by.</p><p>Barry forces his eyes to focus on Harry’s face. He’s still looming with the syringe held aloft in one hand, so close that Barry can see the heavy lines around his eyes from stress and lack of sleep. But Harry’s not moving. Not even breathing.</p><p>Barry hurls himself upright and away from Harry’s frozen form, lurching to his feet on the side of the hospital bed. Black spots cloud his vision, and he nearly passes out again, but the feeling soon eases and he tries a few steps.</p><p>Cisco is still sitting where he was a moment ago (an hour ago?), leaning precariously back on two wheels of his office chair. His eyes are trained upwards, and mouth wide open as a green M&amp;M hovers a foot and a half above his face. He’s also completely still, holding the perfect balance on the edge of potential disaster. </p><p>It should be a moment for celebration, and Barry does feel a brief flare of hope. But any feeling of elation is quickly getting smothered by dread. As hard as he tries, he has no control over his new ability. </p><p>Harry and Cisco hang in their immobile states, unaffected when Barry tries to draw them into his energy, and the computer terminal is completely unresponsive when Barry tries to open the Turtle project file. He mashes the keyboard, hammering the enter key until it cracks under his fingers, but the computer doesn’t even beep in protest.</p><p>He does everything short of clicking his heels three times, and yet the world around him remains resolutely set. </p><p>Their plan might have hit a small snag, Barry concedes.</p><p>It sounded good on paper, developing a retrovirus for The Turtle’s powers that could give Barry a way to defeat Zoom. They had neither the time nor the resources for a proper trial, so when the computer modelling all looked good, Barry had said yes. </p><p>In hindsight, he knows Harry rushed it through and Caitlin’s protests had fallen on preoccupied ears. But Barry understood the desire to do anything to keep your family safe, and he’d gambled that Harry’s intellect and perfectionism would make the risks acceptable. </p><p>His own headspace has been filled with the compulsive need to do anything but think about Patty and everything that went wrong. In the days since she left to pursue her career far away from Central—and away from Barry more specifically—the sting of failure has been acute. After turning himself inside out to decide that he was serious about their relationship, only to watch it all go belly up anyway, has left him feeling more than a little hopeless.</p><p>So his recent decision-making hasn’t exactly been faultless. Still, the plan had seemed like the best idea they’d had in a long time. </p><p>But standing here, alone, in a room full of other people who are all stuck in the same unending moment, panic starts to rise in his throat. </p><p>First things first, he tests his speed. Barry zips across the lab, lighting cascading across his shoulders as easy as breathing. But the papers on Harry’s desk don’t so much as flutter, let alone fly onto the floor in his wake.</p><p>It’s weird and disconcerting, but the fact that the speed force is still working in his cells is enough to calm him a bit. The Turtle could only hold the time stops for a handful of minutes and his range was short, so Barry tries to stay positive. </p><p>“This is only temporary,” he tells the room at large. No one responds. He writes a note on a post-it saying <em>everything is fine brb</em> and sticks it to the lab gurney just in case.</p><p>Barry leaves Harry and Cisco to it, and ventures further out into the hallway. </p>
<hr/><p>Barry discovers fairly quickly that his predicament may be worse than originally thought. </p><p>After an unexpected detour into the bathroom to vomit his guts up after his body gives a particularly violent objection to his new ability, the toilet stubbornly refuses to flush no matter how many times he waves his hand over the auto-flush. He smacks himself in the forehead in dismay when the auto-handwash also doesn’t work. </p><p>Fortunately, he finds a fridge full of bottled water in the kitchen, and manages to brush his teeth without the cooperation of the electric switches in all of the taps. He tables the toilet flushing issue for later. </p><p>In desperate need of cheering up after that unfortunate discovery, Barry takes a detour outside to Jitters. As luck would have it, someone is being handed a brand new cup of Flash coffee at the table by the front door. He drops the cash on the benchtop to cover the drink, and tries to drink the entire cup in one go, heedless of the burning hot liquid. It scalds his tongue, and there’s a strange sticky quality to the coffee that thwarts him from swallowing the rest. He has to resort to drinking it with a straw, but eventually he feels caffeinated enough to go back to the lab and brainstorm for ideas. </p><p>He grabs a bagel as an afterthought, and heads back out onto the street. </p><p>Ordinarily, he would just speed back to the lab without so much as a backwards glance at the mundane minutiae of life going on around him in Central City. But a bit more reconnaissance on the effects of Harry’s experiment might be helpful in some way, so he sets off at a moderate pace down the sidewalk. </p><p>A few blocks pass before he notices anything peculiar or worth investigating. There are people everywhere in the early evening peak hour, all paused mid-conversation or mid-argument, or in one case, mid-car-accident. Barry carefully redirects the second car away from the first so they’ll harmlessly pass each other instead of colliding head on. </p><p>The man in the second car is on the wrong side of the road, and he’s not even aware of the impending catastrophe because he’s looking down at his phone as he types out a text. Barry plucks the phone out of his hand and locks it in the glove compartment, before scribbling a note on an old receipt that says, “don’t text and drive, dickhead” on it, and puts it in the guy’s lap. </p><p>He moves the remaining pedestrians out of harm’s way, trying to foresee any other possible casualties. Satisfied that no one will die, he carries on, moving further into the heart of the city. </p><p>Barry swings by the CCPD where things are their usual chaotic mess as everyone tries to pack up and get home on time for once. Captain Singh is slumped over in his chair, looking tired and guilty, worse than Barry has seen in a while. A hamburger sits abandoned, half-eaten on the desk beside him, and his phone is lit up with an incoming text. </p><p>Barry resists the urge to snoop further, but he does swap the hamburger with his uneaten salad bagel. Imagining the look of confused rage on Singh’s face is enough to cheer him up a bit. </p><p>It’s a strange feeling, to be watching the world this way. Barry’s used to life seeming slow when he’s got the adrenaline rush and the speedforce flowing through his veins. But this is different. There’s no urgency, no excitement. It’s like being in a museum filled with wax figures, all posed and dressed to look real, but there’s just something off. </p><p>Barry leaves the precinct, before the uncanny feeling can disturb him further, and takes a shortcut back to the lab. His field trip hasn’t yielded any particularly useful clues, apart from confirming that the effects are widespread, and that no one seems immune. </p><p>He needs to make a plan, and thought it pains him to admit it, he needs help. </p>
<hr/><p>Barry stares at the list in front of him, with all the names of his friends, and neat pros and cons column diligently filled out with aggregated scores at the end. He’s probably overthinking it, but the weight of this kind of choice has pushed him to be more considered than he has recently been. He can’t risk testing the serum on Harry directly when it is designed specifically for metas, but if he wants any chance of figuring out how to restart time, he will need Harry’s help. </p><p>He’s ninety-eight percent sure the serum won’t kill whoever he gives it to, but Barry can’t say that there’s no doubt lurking in his subconscious. Objectivity has never been his strong suit, and the list was supposed to help with that. But seeing the facts and making the call are two different things. </p><p>Barry speeds out to the hospital for a moment to look in on the Wests before he decides. The hallways are filled with people, all paused mid-motion. There are tired-looking nurses and a waiting room full of bored people. An expectant mother is paused mid-scream as a man, who Barry assumes is her husband, grips her hand for dear life. He passes them all by, trying to ignore the hopeless feeling he gets when he’s in a crowd of people. </p><p>He feels a bit guilty for not being there for Iris and Joe, for being distracted by Harry’s personal vendetta at a time when they’re all hurting so much. But looking at them anew, with the benefit of some time and distance from it all, Barry can’t see where he would fit. It’s an uncomfortable realisation, but he feels useless here. </p><p>He hugs Joe where he stands in the hall, looking pensively out the window and frozen while he waits for Iris. It’s clear in the sad set of his brow and reddened eyes that Joe’s mind is on the two people in the adjacent room, so Barry leaves him be. </p><p>Iris is just as she was, sitting by Francine’s bedside, a watery but broad smile on her face and tears tracked halfway down her cheeks. She’s still paused in her moment of forgiveness. Iris looks beautiful like that, despite the puffiness in her face and the desperation that underlies the hope. </p><p>Barry pulls a chair over for himself anyway, and sits with them for a while. His intrusion will go unnoticed when everything is back to normal, but for now he can make believe that his presence is wanted. He tells Iris about his dilemma, wishing and praying that for just a minute she’ll respond, to dispense some of her patented Barry-proof advice. She knows him so well, and always helps him see things the right way—as she’s done since they were kids. </p><p>Eventually her silence drives him out of the room and back to Star Labs. He returns to the cortex, list clutched in his hand and no closer to a decision.</p><p>Joe is a similar age to Harry, similar medical history and is as human as it gets. Barry would love nothing more than to have Joe’s steady presence around. But with everything that’s happening with Iris’s mother and Wally, he knows it would be selfish to drag Joe into it. Joe is safer where he is, and for now he and Iris have an endless moment to spend with Francine. </p><p>Although it’s not in the scientific spirit of why he made the list in the first place, Barry draws a line through Joe’s name. He does the same with Iris, so that he won’t be tempted to selfishness. </p><p>Caitlin should objectively be at the top of the list, and if anything needs to be modified in the serum she’s the only choice. Barry walks over to where she is standing, hands outstretched to receive the cup of coffee Jay is pushing towards her. </p><p>There is an unguarded smile on her face, one that Barry hasn’t seen much of in the last few years. She’s lost so much already, and the sight of her happy and optimistic again nags at him. Ronnie was a huge loss that could only be laid at Barry’s feet, and with the scales already tipped so far Barry can’t make himself hurt her again. He thinks about what will happen when she wakes. The smile will be gone and it will be his fault.</p><p>He crosses her name off too. She’s the wrong blood type anyway. </p><p>It leaves him with only one real contender and when Barry stares at the heavier print and underlining on the name, he knows it’s his only choice. </p><p>Oliver Queen is a normal human, shares Harry’s blood type and several other medically significant factors. He’s also bound by an agreement of sorts, one that Barry had never wanted to have to enact. But this scenario certainly counts, even though it probably wasn’t what either of them had in mind when they discussed it. </p><p>Besides, it’s not like this will be the first dubious medical procedure he’s performed on Oliver, he tells himself. There’s precedent. </p><p>Barry leaves for Star City before he can change his mind. </p>
<hr/><p>Barry arrives outside Verdant in the perpetual darkness of an unending night. The strobe lights from within stick out like spears of color from the open doorway at the front of the club. Barry weaves around a crowd of fashionable girls in high heels and glossy makeup, and through the throng of dancers on the dance floor, all paused with rapturous expressions on their faces. </p><p>Thea and Roy are behind the bar, and Roy is watching Thea with rapt attention—she has three shot glasses in the air in front of her and an easy-pour bottle of vodka in one hand. There is a line of drinks already poured across the top of the bar and a group of enthralled frat-boys all looking at her. </p><p>The busy space is uncomfortable to move through for Barry. The waves of sound from the bass speakers make him feel like he’s swimming underwater while a cruise ship propeller chugs around next to his head. Even though the sound isn’t moving, he is, and the doppler effect that is usually dampened by the speedforce just batters his eardrums, so he makes a short speedrun for the stairwell that will take him down to the Arrow cave. </p><p>Barry hasn’t seen him since their last team up, but he can still remember the warmth of Oliver’s arms around his shoulders when he went in for a totally platonic bro-hug—it felt good in a way that Barry hadn’t wanted to examine in the moment. </p><p>The more time he spends with Oliver, the more attached he finds himself getting, which considering their respective careers, doesn’t seem prudent. But now that another of his relationships is lost because he can’t be honest, he feels even more connected to their shared double life—and Oliver, who has always held him at arm’s length, seems to be getting used to a closer proximity too. </p><p>When Barry lands at the bottom of the stairwell, Oliver is standing in the middle of the workout mat, arms at his sides and a meditative expression on his face. His eyes are closed, as though he’s been paused mid-inhale as he gets ready to move. The salmon ladder is above him, with the bar settled on the lowest rung, waiting for him to leap up and start his ascent. </p><p>Inconveniently for Barry’s sense of propriety, he isn’t wearing a shirt. “Seriously?” he asks Oliver, and the empty room in general—but the usual smug response isn’t forthcoming. He wraps his arms around Oliver’s midsection anyway, and lets the speedforce carry them back to Central City, before he can let his misgivings talk him out of it. </p>
<hr/><p>He deposits Oliver’s deadweight body onto the bed in the Lab, and rearranges the room so Harry is standing in the opposite corner. Barry carefully pries the injector out of Harry’s hand and pulls the empty cartridge out, before reloading it with a fresh dose out of the fridge. </p><p>Barry isn’t usually squeamish (several years of poking and prodding at the various corpses he’s encountered in the line of duty has cured that), but looking down at Oliver’s peaceful expression makes him pause. To actually get the serum where it needs to go in Oliver’s brain, he will have to put the needle through his skull. For a speedster, it only takes a moment to heal something so trivial, but he’s not sure how a regular human will react. But it’s too late to back out now, and the oppressive silence of the world around him is starting to grate. </p><p>He tries not to think about the odds of failure, or all the possible negative reactions, or what Oliver will think of him for choosing to do this. They have an agreement, but Barry’s feelings on the matter have been conflicted in the long months since they shook hands on a darkened rooftop. He hadn’t been sure at the time that Oliver’s thinking was clear-headed, and the archer’s propensity for unnecessary self-sacrifice made Barry worry about what motivated the promise to always be the one Barry should call on. </p><p>After his run-in with Roy Bivolo, Barry had grudgingly agreed that Oliver was right about his tendencies to rush in without thinking. But he’s thought about this carefully, considered all the angles and has come to the only logical conclusion. </p><p>Oliver will certainly berate him for putting them both in this position—he is unlikely to be swayed by Harry’s arguments about defeating Zoom being worth the risk, considering what’s happened. But he’ll understand why Barry has chosen him, and even if he’s angry, it will be worth it to at least have someone else to make noise and take up space and actually bring some life back into the world. As long as the serum doesn’t kill him first.</p><p>Barry focuses instead on the tiny patch of skin on Oliver’s forehead. He’s done the calculations and looked at Caitlin’s notes a hundred times, and his own medical training tells him he’s positioned the device correctly, but there is still an undercurrent of doubt. He steadies his hand, and depresses the trigger, wincing at the snicking sound as the needle pierces the skin and bone. Oliver has a hard head, and he has to press firmly. </p><p>The serum squeezes out of the injector slowly, moving directly into the frontal lobe where it should take effect. Oliver’s non-meta status won’t allow him to use the powers actively, but Barry is hoping it will at least make him immune to their effects. </p><p>Barry retracts the needle and sticks a small plaster to the front of Oliver’s head, though there is barely a smear of blood with Oliver’s cardio-pulmonary system on pause. He has no idea how long it will take, or even if it will work, so Barry pulls up a chair and waits, flicking the injector back and forth in his fingers to keep himself busy.</p><p>It starts as a strange disturbance in the air around Oliver’s body. Everything else is so still that Barry notices it immediately. Oliver’s eyes start to move under closed eyelids, and tremors and twitches start at his extremities. All of a sudden, Oliver’s eyes snap open and he gulps in a desperate breath. </p><p>“Barry, what the hell?” He grabs Barry’s hand with the injector, and a betrayed look crosses his face. But then his eyes are rolling back into his head and the seizures start. Barry’s increased strength is no match for Oliver’s brute force, and all he can do is try and keep Oliver from falling off the bed headfirst as the serum ravages through his system. </p><p>Just when Barry’s thoughts start to spiral down a rabbit hole about Oliver’s possible brain damage or death, the seizures stop. Oliver slumps back onto the bed, eyes and nose streaming and a slightly sick greenish tinge to his complexion. </p><p>“Oliver? Can you hear me?” He gently brushes one hand over Oliver’s shoulder, having learned his lesson once before about being too close when Oliver has woken up after a stint of unconsciousness. Last time he hadn’t had speedforce healing, and the ring of bruises around his neck had been hard to conceal from his law-enforcement colleagues and family. Getting choked out was not a sexy thing for him—definitely not after a few years on the job as a superhero—but that experience with Oliver did leave a certain impression on him if he’s being honest. </p><p>Now, Oliver just growls at him and bats Barry’s hand away. Bleary eyes drop open with great reluctance, and Barry waves at him in a way he hopes is encouraging. </p><p>“Barry, what’s going on? And why am I in your lab?” Oliver’s eyes track Barry’s movements with sluggish confusion.</p><p>“Hey Oliver, how are you doing?” Barry digs one of the newer recipe energy bars out of the cupboard and gives it to Oliver, who just blinks at him.</p><p>“Everything sounds weird, and you keep speeding around and I can’t see you properly.” Oliver waves his own hand in front of his face with an expression of irritated fascination. </p><p>“Oh, crap. Sorry man, I didn’t even think of that. It will get better soon,” Barry tells him, though he’s not all that confident that Oliver’s perception will improve. His brain will need to adapt itself to sensory processing at different speeds, and while it’s easy for a speedster, Oliver is only human. </p><p>“It’s fine. I’ll manage.” Oliver pushes himself off the bed before Barry can stop him—superspeed or not—and lurches across the room on unsteady legs. As he walks, his balance starts to stabilise and by the time he’s turned around, Barry stops hovering at his elbow and lets him walk over to where Harry is standing. </p><p>“So you probably have some questions…” Barry sits down on the edge of the now-vacant lab bed. </p><p>“Just one.” Oliver turns around with his usual fluid grace, though Barry can see his eyes widen for a moment as if the ground has shifted under his feet. “What did you do?” He raises his chin and fixes Barry with a glare. </p><p>“You look like you’re not in the mood for the long version, so I’ll keep it short,” Barry says, trying not to wince as Oliver’s eyes narrow. “Basically, we were looking for a way to beat Zoom, so we tried adapting the abilities of a meta called The Turtle so we could slow time. We thought it might give us an edge in our next confrontation.” </p><p>“Who’s we?” Oliver asks, eyes tracking past Harry and landing on Cisco, who is still poised on his chair, M&amp;M no closer to his mouth than it was a few days earlier. </p><p>“Harry mostly—he really wants to get his daughter back, which is understandable.” </p><p>“And yet, once again, something has gone wrong,” Oliver finishes for him in a tone that Barry would characterize as pissy, if he was a braver man than he is. </p><p>“I don’t know why, but for some reason everyone seems stuck. Time is still passing, I think, only it mustn’t be moving normally for anyone here because Cisco has been waiting for that candy to land for almost a week now. The laws of physics are kind of broken.” Oliver moves closer to Cisco, and inspects the floating chocolate with a wary expression. Cisco tips minutely further backwards when Oliver touches his forehead with his fingers. </p><p>“So what’s your plan? I am assuming you have one?” Barry tries not to bristle at the patronizing tone as Oliver turns to face him, arms crossed. </p><p>“I need to wake Harry up. He’ll know what to do,” Barry says, and picks up the injector so he can remove the now empty serum cartridge. He dumps the used needle nib in the sharps bin and waits for Oliver to speak.</p><p>“Right, and I’m here because?” Barry sucks in a breath, not prepared for the directness of Oliver’s question. He had hoped that Oliver wouldn’t ask, what with the whole super-hero bro-code that they are supposed to share—but Oliver just looks expectantly at him.</p><p>“I needed a test subject. I can’t risk killing Harry with a serum meant for metas without testing it first. So I chose you,” Barry finishes softly, not quite able to force his eyes up to meet Oliver’s gaze. It’s not the only reason he chose Oliver, but now there really isn’t time for him to try and untangle the mess that is his less-than-healthy attachment. </p><p>“I see.” Oliver doesn’t say anything further. He picks up the power-bar and takes a bite, chewing methodically until the whole thing is gone.</p><p>“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” Barry says, as Oliver turns his back and moves to leave. </p><p>“Not now, Barry,” Oliver growls and stalks away. </p><p>Barry gives him his space, letting Oliver walk it off in the circular hallways of Star Labs until he’s ready to talk. Oliver seems to be taking it better than Barry expected, but then again they haven’t really talked about it in any real depth, and Oliver is the master of bottling his emotions up to be explosively disgorged at a later date. </p><p>So Barry shadows him but doesn’t engage, and lets Oliver get used to interacting with a world that no longer obeys the familiar laws of physics. Barry is really not looking forward to having to explain how bathrooms don’t work, or how the water pipes in the shower don’t work, or the coffee machine or any number of other modern conveniences that simply don’t exist in their world now. </p><p>“Barry,” he isn’t proud of how he jumps at the sound of Oliver’s gravelly voice as it reaches him from the darkened room of the central cortex, "I know this is going to sound a little bit crazy, but can we bring the team here? My team, that is."</p><p>Oliver is pacing back and forth in the same ten feet of space he was when Barry left him about an hour earlier to do a scout through the meta wing at Iron Heights looking for anyone else unaffected.</p><p>Oliver’s agitation has been building and building and Barry’s actually starting to worry. He never lets much unchecked emotion show through under normal circumstances (baseline grumpiness aside), and although Oliver seems pissed off most of the time, this is different.</p><p>"It’s not crazy at all. I’ll find them," Barry promises. It might be awkward and heavy-going to lug Dig all the way from Star City, but he managed with Oliver so he can do it again.</p><p>Oliver looks relieved, and the tension between them eases slightly.</p><p>"Thanks," he says, a little wooden still. "I’m just a little concerned - they’re vulnerable like this."</p><p>Barry nods and doesn’t press him for more even though it’s not exactly rational considering their predicament. Barry misses his team tremendously too, and they’re all here, just not <em>here</em>. But if bringing Oliver’s team to Central City can mend at least a bit of the strain between them, then it’s worth it.</p><p>It takes him a while to find Diggle, who is sitting in the front seat of his van at the gas station near Verdant. Barry carries him carefully across the distance between Star City and Central, and sets him up on an office chair in the lab, putting a small trash can within easy reach. </p><p>When Barry returns to Star City looking for Felicity, it gets a bit complicated. She’s not in the Arrow Cave, nor is she in her apartment. Oliver had just grunted and thrown up his hands when Barry had asked him where everyone will be, so he’s forced to do some actual detective work. </p><p>Felicity’s assistant’s desk finally yields a clue, with a note to make a reservation for two at one of the more expensive restaurants in town. It’s evidently not for Oliver—despite being inconvenienced by vigilante duties at the last minute a lot of the time, he doesn’t tend to forget social engagements entirely. </p><p>Since the DNA test incident, as Barry has taken to calling it in his mind, Felicity has been somewhat frosty even with him for his part in it. While it was Oliver who had been keeping secrets, Barry has been found guilty by association. They’re on a break, or so Oliver told him, but what that actually means he’s not too sure. </p><p>So that leaves only one other possibility. Barry goes to the restaurant on the off-chance they’re early for their reservation, but the place hasn’t even opened for dinner service. He speeds across to Palmer technologies with a growing feeling of dread. He has to phase through the doors to get in—the smart building locks and automated lifts are no help—but soon enough he’s standing in the hall outside a vast executive office. </p><p>Ray’s office is locked, and Barry hesitates. There is probably a good reason why the door is locked, and Barry really shouldn’t invade their privacy, he knows. But appeasing Oliver’s paranoid tendencies will go a long way to making Barry’s own life easier, so he’s torn. </p><p>Despite their more recent tension, he’s always kept in touch with Felicity, even though he knows it bothers Oliver for some bizarre reason. So he isn’t surprised when he phases through the door to find Felicity and Ray together. It’s immediately awkwardly obvious that he can’t do anything about it, and that Felicity will most certainly be staying in Star City, no matter what Oliver says. </p><p>But outright telling Oliver why he can’t bring Felicity to Central is not a conversation he’s going to enjoy. He backs out of the room, leaving Felicity and Ray to their activities, and starts the run back home. </p><p>He takes the long way back, and considers how he can break it to Oliver that Felicity’s not coming with them. Telling Oliver he couldn’t find her will only make him worry, but telling him the truth will be salting the wound. </p><p>Fortunately Barry is saved by the fact that Oliver is (in some areas at least) not an idiot. </p><p>“No Felicity?” He asks carefully, when Barry returns empty handed.</p><p>“No Felicity. She’s safe, I promise.” </p><p>“Too busy fucking Ray Palmer again, I guess?” Oliver says, and closes his eyes with a pinched frown. </p><p>“I’m sorry Ollie,” Barry starts, but Oliver just waves him off.</p><p>“It’s fine, they’ve been back together for a while now. I’m trying to be supportive,” he says, rubbing at tired eyes. Oliver won’t outwardly complain, but Barry can tell he’s still having trouble with his vision. </p><p>“Good job there, big guy. I almost believed that,” Barry says, softening the blow with a grin. </p><p>“Well, at least I didn’t have to see it with my own eyes. Felicity will be furious when she finds out what you saw.” </p><p>“Hey, don’t blame me! It was your idea!” Barry says, indignant and still feeling the heat in his face from the memory what he’s seen and now can’t un-see. He means it as a joke, but Oliver’s face remains closed off and remote.</p><p>“I know,” Oliver says, and pushes himself off the bench, leaving Barry alone in the lab with his expanding collection of inanimate friends. </p><p>“Well, that could have gone better,” Barry tells Cisco, Dig and Harry, and they don’t disagree. </p>
<hr/><p>Barry doesn’t really see Oliver for what seems like a few days after that, though it’s hard to hide when you’re the only living, breathing and moving thing in the building. He’s prepared to let Oliver sulk for as long as it takes. </p><p>He is yet to figure out a method for keeping time that isn’t just counting Mississippi's out loud, but by his best guess they’ve been sleeping for about six hours every twelve hours, though Barry has noticed Oliver napping at random times. The sun hasn’t risen again since time stopped and the absence of sunlight is getting tedious.</p><p>In the meantime, Barry whiles away the hours reading physics textbooks and doodling in the margins, or speeding around the city in search of a fresh cup of coffee now that the supply at Jitters has been exhausted. He leaves one out for Oliver each day—just in case—and though he never sees him take it, the cup is always missing by what Barry has arbitrarily called ‘the afternoon’.</p><p>He also discovers that he has no way to access the time-vault, so his plan to check in with Gideon is rudely thwarted by the door refusing to open. </p><p>Oliver himself has finally started to venture outside, taking day trips on a stolen bicycle out of the industrial precinct and closer into the city. Barry keeps tabs on him just in case, but lets Oliver explore and test the world around him without interfering if he can avoid it. Barry can feel the palpable disappointment when Oliver tries shooting an arrow for the first time, and the projectile goes nowhere.</p><p>Getting clean is also still a production, but Barry has to hand it to Oliver for discovering that there is a municipal swimming pool just down the road which is heated, so Barry no longer has to resort to taking a careful dip in the Star Labs water tanks or the frigid water of the bay. They still have to rinse off as best they can in the fresh water hanging mid-air under the running showers to get rid of the chlorine smell, but it’s still a vast improvement.</p><p>It’s Oliver who eventually breaks their detent by turning up to the aquatic center while Barry is already there. Barry has already cleared the pool of all the other people, because even though it’s ridiculous, he’s worried someone might accidentally drown while they’re stuck in the time stop. </p><p>Oliver greets him with a firm nod, which Barry matches before turning his back when Oliver reaches for the hem of his t-shirt. The sound of his clothes being removed is loud in the cavernous space, but Barry keeps his eyes on the unmoving wall clock until Oliver drops into the shallow end a few lanes across from him. </p><p>They are careful not to go too deep because the water doesn’t feel like a normal swimming pool. It’s not as bad as getting stuck in a non-Newtonian fluid like quicksand, but while Barry is safe enough, Oliver drowning is not something he wants to even think about. </p><p>Although it’s a childish move, Barry tries to send a small wave over at Oliver, but it just deforms the surface and travels no further than a few feet. He pouts in disappointment, and Oliver barks out a laugh. </p><p>“How are you feeling?” Barry asks, emboldened by Oliver’s smile. </p><p>“I’m adapting,” Oliver replies, and dunks his head under the water before re-emerging. Barry nearly chokes on his own spit for a minute when Oliver stands up in all his unclothed glory, but he masks it by dunking himself underwater in a rush. It’s not like he hasn’t seen it all before, he reasons, but he still takes the opportunity to stay under a bit longer and school his expression into something more nonchalant.</p><p>Barry figures he looks more like a drowned rat when he comes back up for air, but Oliver has turned away and is busy washing his hair, so there is only a handful of apathetic onlookers in the crowd to see him. They seem to be more interested in their phones, so it’s not much of a confidence boost. In his defence, they don’t seem particularly moved by the display of muscle and manly scars that’s going on in the adjacent lane either. Barry sighs and goes about his own routine.</p><p>“Have you made any progress?” Oliver’s voice startles him when it comes from much closer than he expects. Barry swears at the sting as he accidentally smears shampoo in one eye, and then nearly expires completely when he realises Oliver is not wearing anything at all. </p><p>“Uh, yeah. I think I have an idea, but I need to uh,” Barry casts about in his memory for what his idea is, but his brain won’t supply it.</p><p>“You were muttering something about the time-vault this morning?”</p><p>“Yes! The time vault,” Barry clings to the words like a life-preserver, “I can’t get in, but I was thinking if I had the tachyon enhancer I could go back in time and stop Harry from injecting me.” </p><p>“Can you make another one?” Oliver frowns, and leans back against the lane ropes. Barry tries to ignore him, and focuses on washing his own arms instead.</p><p>“Cisco or Harry could, but I’m no engineer. And anyway, the specs are all on the computer, which we can’t access.” </p><p>“So we’re back to square one, then.” Oliver returns to his side of the pool and gets out, and Barry looks back up at him once a towel is safely secured around his waist. </p><p>“Not entirely, but I need to figure out how to get into the vault.” </p><p>“You’re smart Bear, you’ll figure it out. You might want to rinse that out at some point,” Oliver points to his hair which is still covered in suds, and gives him a mock salute as he walks away, leaving Barry to recover the shreds of his dignity alone.</p><p>It takes him a long time to get the soap out of his hair and to find some clean water to rinse in, but when he gets back to Star Labs, he’s feeling a bit more refreshed.</p><p>Later, he finds Oliver reclining on a sofa in the common space off the main lab, reading a physics textbook and tapping his foot against the floor in a distracted rhythm. Ordinarily, Barry would leave him alone, but his own crushing loneliness pushes him through the doorway until he’s sitting down next to Oliver on the couch. </p><p>Oliver keeps tapping away, until he notices Barry watching him. He puts the book down, and crosses his arms.</p><p>“I’m not going to ask anything stupid like ‘are you okay’, but…” Barry does a quick inventory of Oliver’s appearance. He’s as still as a statue, and glaring in Barry’s direction, as though he can will Barry to shut up with the power of his mind. But then, Oliver surprises him. </p><p>"I keep feeling like I need to make noise,” he says, expression uncomfortable. “I'm used to solitude and seclusion, but even on Lian Yu, there was the wind in the trees and the sounds of animals. Here there's just nothing."</p><p>Barry latches onto the conversation with an undignified amount of desperation. He’s always been a social creature, and being stuck here with the human equivalent of a brick wall has been an unexpected challenge.</p><p>"It can be pretty disorienting,” Barry agrees. “It's like this in the speed force too, and your ears start to ring after a while."</p><p>"I guess I just got so used to the constant pulse of the bass through the roof from Verdant. I actually miss music," Oliver admits, bracing for Barry to mock him.</p><p>Once the shock of the admission passes, instead of making fun of him as Oliver expects, Barry lets out a whoop of excitement. </p><p>"What kind of music do you like? No, wait. Don't tell me! I have an idea." Barry darts out of the room, and is back in a second with a piece of paper and a pencil.</p><p>"Barry," Oliver's voice carries a warning note.</p><p>"You're an elder millennial, so that narrows it down a bit." Barry starts scribbling on the page, ignoring Oliver's affronted glare at the jibe about his age. “And there was a big chunk of time you missed when you were on the island so...” Barry finishes writing with a flourish.</p><p>"What are you doing?" Oliver tries to snatch the paper out of Barry's hands, but Barry moves out of range and his fingers close around empty air.</p><p>"Well, we don't have Spotify, so I'm making you a playlist of all the 90s emo rock I can remember. I'm a great singer Ollie!" Barry says to forestall the inevitable complaints. "Any song you want to hear, just ask and I'll sing it for you. Consider me your own personal ipod," Barry grins and hands over the list. ”Feel free to add anything I’ve missed, and you can teach it to me.”</p><p>“What makes you think I like emo rock,” Oliver scowls, but Barry doesn’t offer a counter argument. Some things, he thinks, are just obvious. As Oliver scans down the page, Barry can see him almost nodding in approval, in spite of himself. </p><p>Oliver's eyebrows reach heretofore uncharted heights when he gets to the last song on the list.</p><p>"It's a classic, and don't pretend you didn't listen to that song all the time when it came out."</p><p>Barry hums the opening strains of Nine Inch Nails' Closer, and Oliver's elevated eyebrows dare him to continue.</p><p>“Start at number five, and we’ll see,” Oliver acquiesces, and rests back on the couch. He picks up his book and returns to reading, leaving Barry to flounder for a moment.</p><p>Barry clears his throat, humming a bit to himself to find the right pitch, before he finds the words. The first verse floats out of him, perfectly in tune and softly melodic. And when he gets to the chorus, he’s pleased to hear a deeper baritone joins in.</p><p>“I don’t ever want to feel, like I did that day...”</p><p>And so they sing, and Oliver actually laughs when Barry drops the rap in over the top of Aerosmith’s Dream On. Any shame he might have had is gone once he gets Oliver to smile, even if it’s a horrified or put-upon smile. </p><p>Sometimes Barry forgets the lyrics, but with no access to google he just makes them up. Oliver has had to resort to breaking into nearby apartments in search of CD inserts that will prove him right, but 90s alternative is proving surprisingly unpopular with Central City residents.</p><p>Oliver is subjected to misheard lyrical atrocities and Barry's wild reinterpretations, but the noise is enough to drown out the ringing silence that has pervaded the cortex since the whole experiment began. </p><p>A few day cycles later, Oliver looks almost happy when he returns from his run around the city. He drops the collection of food onto the lab table with little concern, and reaches carefully into his backpack to unearth an ancient-looking camera.</p><p>"It’s an old Polaroid," he says with uncharacteristic cheer as he gently expands the frame into its operational shape. "Do you think it might work?"</p><p>"Probably not, I mean, it’s old as shit and in here nothing fucking works so..." Barry throws the screwdriver he’s holding back into the toolbox with no small amount of frustration, and swipes a hand at the hair getting in his eyes.</p><p>Barry doesn’t catch the look on Oliver’s face because he’s already turned away by the time he looks up. But if Barry has learned anything recently it’s that the set of Oliver’s shoulders can reliably indicate his mood. His shoulders are disappointed again. Barry sighs.</p><p>"Hey," he says softly, "maybe it will work. You should at least give it a try?" Barry steps away from the old prototype enhancing device he’s tinkering with and picks up the camera from where Oliver has discarded it on the instrument table.</p><p>"These old cameras are mostly mechanical, so we might be able to get it to trigger the exposure mechanism. The rest is just a chemical reaction that creates the picture in the cartridge." Barry pushes the camera into Oliver’s hands again.</p><p>"Besides," he continues, "someone ought to document all this somehow. Cisco is always saying—pics or it didn’t happen—and they’re not going to believe us when things go back to normal." </p><p>It takes a moment, but Oliver eventually matches his smile with a wry grin, and puts the viewfinder up to his eye.</p><p>Barry flashes backwards to pose next to the partially modified suit, grinning widely as Oliver frames the shot and clicks the button. There’s a few whirs and ticks from inside the box, and the cartridge is ejected.</p><p>Oliver holds it up expectantly, but the film remains stubbornly undeveloped.</p><p>"Guess not." He frowns at the blank frame.</p><p>"It’s probably the time distortion field," Barry says and flashes back to Oliver’s side. "It might be stopping the chemical reaction. I’m sorry Ollie." Barry cuffs him lightly on the arm.</p><p>"Worth a try," he replies and drops the empty polaroid and the camera with even less care than he gave their groceries.</p><p>"Hey, I still think you should use it," Barry tells him, not wanting to kill the brief moment of happiness Oliver has shown.</p><p>"Even if we never get to see the pictures?"</p><p>"When this is all over, maybe we will get to see them. It could still work, just on a delay." Barry risks resting both hands on Oliver's shoulders and holds his gaze.</p><p>Oliver just nods, but doesn’t immediately shake Barry’s hands off him. Barry lets him go before he can pull away, and tries not to read too much into the way Oliver seems to sway towards him as he goes.</p><p>Having something to occupy Oliver while Barry works in the lab would be best for both of them, Barry decides.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>His efforts in the lab come to naught when Barry affixes the old prototype speed enhancer to the suit and tries it on. With no diagnostic tools, he can’t even begin to figure out what’s wrong with it, and Cisco offers no insight when Barry visits the silent lab. </p><p>“Who were you talking to?” Oliver pops his head around the door with a hopeful expression when he hears Barry’s voice.</p><p>“Sorry,” Barry waves him off. “Just talking to Cisco in the hope that some of his genius might transfer by osmosis.” </p><p>“No luck with the enhancer?” Oliver asks carefully.</p><p>“No luck as such, no.” Barry gives him a wan smile. Even without a working speedometer, he could tell he wasn’t going any faster. “I still think the best idea is to break into the timevault. That way I don’t have to do any modifications. The speed enhancer in the vault should just work.” </p><p>“But you still can’t get the door open.” </p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Do you think maybe it’s time to wake up one of the others? Like Cisco?” </p><p>“I only have one shot left. Harry is the closest we’ve got to an expert on this stuff, so it needs to be him. </p><p>“We’ve tried everything to get into the vault. Nothing works,” Oliver says, sitting down heavily on the vacant lab chair.</p><p>“Yeah, about that. I have an idea, but it might take me a while to find what we need.”</p><p>“How long is a while?” Oliver gets a closed-off expression on his face, and Barry hurries to reassure him.</p><p>“Not long. I’ll be back before you know it,” he says, grabbing the rest of his suit off the mannequin. “I’m a speedster. You’ll hardly even notice I’m gone.” </p><p>Barry smiles brightly, earning himself an irritated groan from the other side of the lab. </p><p>“Fine, go. But if you get distracted and wander off somewhere, I’m waking Harry up myself.”</p><p>Barry dresses himself quickly, and speeds around Star Labs to fetch the equipment he’ll need for the journey. Meanwhile, Oliver disappears back into the sleeping quarters he’s commandeered—or as Barry has taken to calling it “The Sulking Zone”—where he always goes when he’s annoyed or bothered by something Barry has done or said. </p><p>Barry doesn’t blame him. They’ve only got each other for company, and haven’t spent this long together before. Add to that the fact that Barry feels responsible for all of this, and Oliver is only partially successful at hiding the fact that he’s still a bit pissed about the whole thing—it’s only natural that they’ll need some time apart. </p><p>At least, that’s what Barry tells himself to get sufficiently jazzed about going away from Oliver for a few days. Oliver is a big boy, and can manage just fine on his own—has done for years before meeting Barry and has even survived living on a deserted island. Central City in a time-freeze should be a walk in the park in comparison. </p><p>The last thing Barry wants is for Oliver to tire of him completely and either withdraw from the world, or worse, leave to go back to Star City. Barry is no stranger to facing terrible consequences of his choices when they don’t work out as planned, but if he’s going to make it through this, he needs Oliver on his side. </p><p>Just knowing that he’s not alone in this has made the weight of responsibility that much more bearable. Still, Barry isn’t sure if Oliver will ever truly forgive him, or if this will just be another life-lesson about disappointing someone you care about.  </p><p>Either way, Barry can’t help the gnawing sense of wrongness that hits him as he takes one last speeding check on Oliver before leaving. Oliver will know he’s done it. Even with the time distortion field, Oliver’s got a sixth sense for knowing where Barry is, speedforce or no. </p><p>Oliver gives Barry a small smile, little more than a quirk of lips and an eyebrow raise, and Barry takes that as Oliver-speak for ‘you’re weird, but I like you anyway, now go before I change my mind’.</p><p>Barry leaves Oliver there, and tries to ignore the worry and anxiety that chases after him as he speeds towards the city limits. The frozen world is mostly benign, and so far the lack of people trying to kill them has been a refreshing change of pace. But the all-encompassing strangeness is impossible to escape, and leaves him feeling unaccountably worried about the small stuff. </p><p>Barry imagines Oliver drowning in the pool, or having another seizure—dozens of worst case scenarios play out in his subconscious while he runs. He ignores them as best he can, and sets about working on a practical plan to try and take his mind off the man he’s left behind. </p><p>He’s only about fifty percent successful. </p>
<hr/><p>It takes Barry several days to find someone actually using a thermal lance, and he has to travel to the other side of the country. It’s still late in the afternoon there, and he is eventually able to find construction workers still on the job. </p><p>It’s the only thing he can think of that might cut through the walls of the timevault, assuming he can make it work. </p>
<hr/><p>“Hey Ollie, I’m back!” Barry drags the thermal lance and its accoutrements through the door. While the device itself is not heavy or large, dragging the oxygen cylinder and several meters of tubing while not tripping over took more care and time. He sets it down safely in the open space of the hallway.</p><p>“Oliver?” </p><p>“Barry! What the hell took you so long?” Oliver is pacing in the ten square feet between the hallway walls. He’s dressed in workout clothes, but he looks tired and the weights are all still stacked neatly away, unused when Barry takes a look into the gym room on his way through.</p><p>“I’m sorry, it took a lot longer than I wanted to, and the lance wasn’t exactly a safe thing to carry.” Barry leans against the wall, and watches as Oliver keeps moving back and forth in a random pattern that changes course as he starts and stops before speaking. </p><p>“You left me here for, fuck, I don’t even know how long it was. But it was days, Barry. You said you’d be back before I knew it!” Oliver stops and pins him with a glare that’s betrayed by a vulnerable tic on the left side of his jaw. “You could have been dead, and I wouldn’t have fucking known, and then I would have been stuck here.” His hard-eyed expression collapses when he sucks in a harsh breath. Barry crosses the distance in the blink of an eye. </p><p>“Oliver, I know, I’m sorry. I’m here now.” Barry tries to soothe him, but Oliver hunches tighter in on himself. Barry feels even worse, realising now that he may possibly have overestimated Oliver’s resilience to the isolation. </p><p>Leaving had better have been worth it, if the restrained distress on Oliver’s face is the price. </p><p>“I can handle being alone, Barry. I’ve been alone for most of my goddamn life!” Oliver says, voice dulled and cautious.</p><p>“I know, you’re the strongest person I know.” It takes a moment, but Oliver’s defensive pose softens almost imperceptibly.</p><p>“You need to understand, Barry. I’m not afraid to die… I made my peace with that a long fucking time ago.” Oliver looks him in the eye with a raw and unguarded expression that Barry’s never seen before. “If something happens to you, I can’t fix this. All our friends will die and I won’t be able to do a damn thing about it, and I’ll be left here to watch it happen. So I need you to stay with me, and I need you to be careful. I hate how weak this sounds, but I can’t do this by myself.” </p><p>“I promise, I’ll be careful. I’m sorry. We’ll stick together, okay?” Barry rests his forehead against Olivers and closes his eyes, leaning into the warmth radiating from Oliver’s skin. </p><p>His breathing calms, and Barry watches as Oliver opens his eyes slowly, unfathomably dark blue in the muted glow of the lowlit hall but focussed like a laser on Barry’s own. Oliver’s body sways closer, but his tree-trunk arms hold carefully at his sides and tight-clenched fingers stay put—conflicted thoughts sending conflicted signals that keep him from settling in to the comfort Barry wants to give him. </p><p>“Ollie, tell me this is ok,” Barry whispers, nosing his way across Oliver’s cheek. His lips catch and drag against the bristly edge of Oliver's jaw, advancing and retreating as he tests the waters and waits for Oliver to push him away.</p><p>Oliver turns his face only a fraction towards him, but it's a moment of invitation and Barry presses closer. His fingers skirt along the mountainous topography of Oliver's shoulders before coming to rest, cradling the back of his head. Oliver draws away, but only to look him in the eyes.</p><p>"Nothing about this situation is okay," Oliver rumbles, reaching out to grasp Barry's hips with strong hands to hold him still when Barry tries to pull back, "but if you're still looking for a reason why you shouldn't kiss me, you can stop." Oliver leans back against the wall and tugs on the belt loops of Barry's suit, pulling him closer until they're nose to nose again. Barry searches his face for any signs of hesitation, but Oliver's expression is open and vulnerable. His eyes flick down to Barry's mouth, and the precipitous feeling intensifies until a bubble of fear surfaces.</p><p>"Ollie, I don't think..." The cold pull of reality starts to drag Barry out of the moment, but Oliver holds him firm. The soft brush of warm lips at the corner of his mouth chases away the chill.</p><p>"You know what? Fuck it," Barry says and surges forward, mouth against Oliver's as the tide of his ruthlessly suppressed attraction overwhelms him. "Oh this is such a bad idea," Barry gasps out, before Oliver's mouth steals the rest of his words.</p><p>His body feels like it's on fire and he lets himself slow the moment down until every sensation is like the crawl of lava over his skin. Oliver is like a heavy and relentless wave, powerful arms lifting him behind his thighs and pushing him until Barry's back hits the wall. His legs tighten reflexively around the solid hips pressed between them, and he lets out a startled yelp as Oliver's teeth find the soft skin of his neck where his pulse is bounding. Time speeds up all at once, and Barry whisks them both away to Oliver's quarters before he's incapable of stopping.</p><p>For reasons he doesn't have time to unpack right now, Barry wants to do this right. He wants something more meaningful than a furtive encounter in a darkened hallway.</p><p>Looking down at Oliver lying beneath him, smiling all the way to his eyes and waiting to see what Barry will do next is dangerously intoxicating. Objectivity has gone right out the window, and Barry feels helpless to stop the way his heart is shifting and restructuring itself. He lets Oliver make him forget, and the guilt is only too easy to ignore.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warning for brief mention of suicidal thoughts.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s still dark when Barry wakes again. He’s disoriented for a moment, confused by the fact that he’s lying on a mattress on the floor of a different room than the one he’s been camped out in. But the weight of Oliver’s arm across his midsection grounds him back in the moment. </p><p>Oliver is asleep, his heavy bulk squashed into the small space between Barry and the wall, but he looks mostly comfortable. Barry looks down at the muscles of his arm. They’re still thick and healthy, but while Oliver is used to working at night, he usually has a bit more of a tan. Now, his skin is almost translucently pale, and Barry resolves to find him some vitamin D before he gets rickets. </p><p>There is a rudimentary calendar written in whiteboard marker hanging on Oliver’s wall. Barry hadn’t noticed it yesterday when they came in—his attention was focussed elsewhere—but the tally of days is a lot larger than he expected. </p><p>Maybe the isolation has gotten to him too, because looking back on the night before, Barry can’t help but wonder if this was just a temporary insanity on both their parts. There are things that need to be said, and complications that need to be ironed out if they can move forward together, and yet, Barry selfishly finds himself feeling happy for the first time since they’ve entered their private time bubble. </p><p>There is something honest about their stripped down existence that has made Barry bolder than he might ordinarily have been. In Oliver, he’s seen a similar change but in a different direction. With no appearances to keep up, Oliver has softened and leaned towards Barry when he expected to be pushed away.</p><p>He’s still a prickly pear that Barry must approach with caution, lest he trip one of the many landmines from Oliver’s traumatic past. That much may never change. Still, the promise of something new with someone familiar is more comforting than the idea of going out into the world and meeting someone for the first time—not that such a thing is even possible anymore. </p><p>For his part, Barry isn’t sure how they fit yet. He’s trying not to read too heavily into the fact that he’s literally the last man on Earth. He tries telling himself that it’s not the case that Oliver’s options are so limited that he’s given in to Barry’s none-too-subtle crush out of pity and lack of better offers. But they haven’t even talked about it, is the thing. So Barry is stuck having to listen to his own subconscious insecurities without anyone else to tell him different. </p><p>In the meantime, while Oliver is still asleep, Barry tries to just enjoy their closeness. His worries will keep for later, but for now Barry can just look his fill and revel in the fact that Oliver is near enough to touch, and trusting enough to fall asleep beside him. </p><p>Oliver stirs when Barry traces the line of his cephalic vein across his bicep, murmuring a disgruntled complaint about being ticklish—an admission which Barry files away for later use. It makes Barry smile, even though he’s unaccountably nervous. It’s not like the hours they spent together were anything short of phenomenal.</p><p>“Hey.”</p><p>“Hey.” Oliver gives him a lazy grin, and now he’s awake, there’s a tinge of smug satisfaction to his expression that Barry is pleased to see. </p><p>“So, um. That happened,” Barry says, as a bout of bashfulness strikes.</p><p>“Yeah, it did. A few times,” Oliver agrees, rolling over until he’s resting his head across Barry’s chest. Barry can’t see his face anymore, but he can feel Oliver smile against the sensitive skin of his pectoral. </p><p>Barry would love nothing more than to stay like this for a while, but the calendar on the wall is such a stark reminder of his mistakes that he starts to feel guilty all over again for enjoying himself. There are things he should be doing.</p><p>Oliver notices the change in his demeanour straight away, and sits up with a cautious expression.</p><p>“Hey, so I should ah, probably go and start work on the time vault,” Barry tells him, wincing as Oliver’s expression turns stony. “Not that I want to go, or anything, it’s just, well… I have stuff I need to do.” </p><p>“Right, of course. Don’t let me hold you up,” Oliver agrees readily, and he drops an avalanche of blankets on Barry in his haste to get out of bed. “I have to go too, I’ve got some stuff I should do.” </p><p>“Ollie, wait,” Barry pleads, tearing the blankets off and speeding himself upright so he can get between Oliver and the door. </p><p>“It’s okay Barry, I understand. Go. I need some time to clear my head anyway.” Oliver stares back at him with a neutrally bland expression that Barry has seen dozens of times before—it’s the face Oliver Queen, CEO and rich playboy makes when he’s talking to some rich asshole who wants to screw him over. Barry hates how hollow it makes him look, and how it hides the depth of Oliver’s emotions and intelligence beneath a veneer of vapidity. </p><p>Barry kisses him, and Oliver’s lips are still and unyielding at first. But eventually he sighs, and pulls Barry closer, kissing him properly. He steps back, squeezing Barry’s fingers in his hand and then pulls away entirely. </p><p>“I really want to talk about this Ollie, but if you need some space, I totally get it. Just, like, will you be okay?” Barry listens to himself saying the words, and then cringes internally. Of course Oliver will be fine. He’s always been the strong one. </p><p>Oliver just rolls his eyes, and starts getting dressed. </p><p>“Just, y’know… checking.” Barry throws his hands up in the air, and speeds out of the room. </p><p>He doesn’t stay long enough to see Oliver sigh softly to himself, and look down at the wrecked remnants of the bed with only a smidgeon of irritation. </p>
<hr/><p>Barry spends the day tinkering with the thermal lance, trying to figure out the best approach to break into the vault. At first there is a promising sign when he puts the tip of the lance up to the thick material of the door; the plastic layer starts to warp and melt wherever he waves the wand. It’s slow going though, and it takes a long time to reach the solid metal underneath. </p><p>Barry loses track of time, stuck in the monotony of peeling and scraping the layers away, and it’s not until he feels his stomach rumbling in hunger that he realises Oliver has been gone for a lot longer than usual. </p><p>Barry tries all Oliver’s usual haunts, but he’s not at the pool nor the waterfront. There are small signs of his presence all over the city though, little changes that would go unnoticed if Barry hadn’t been around the city so many times himself. </p><p>He says ‘good evening’ to Mrs Lin who runs the small convenience store a few blocks over from Jitters. There was an armed holdup in there when the pause started, but now the aisles have been cleared up—all the broken jars and spilled food is gone. The perpetrators are still outside, handcuffed to a bicycle rack where Barry left them last time he came past, but someone else has definitely done the rest of the job.</p><p>Still, there is no sign of Oliver in the here and now, so Barry speeds on. He takes a tour of one of the generic suburban neighbourhoods not too far from Joe’s house on a whim, but still, no Oliver. He almost gives up to head back to Star Labs when he hears a glimmer of sound on the edge of the silence. Unless he’s hearing voices, someone a long way away just yelled “fuck” really loudly.</p><p>Barry speeds over a long row of backyards and garden fences until he arrives at an unassuming two-storey weatherboard house that looks strangely familiar. </p><p>He can hear Oliver’s voice from the backyard, a litany of cursing that is more reassuring than concerning. If Oliver is conscious and pissed, then he’s probably not mortally wounded. Barry cautiously approaches the back gate, only to get nearly knocked flat on his ass when the gate flies open under the weight of Oliver’s booted kick. </p><p>He’s clutching a pair of gardening shears and the broken remains of what was probably a very nice boxwood topiary. He startles when he sees Barry.</p><p>“I didn’t know you were into gardening,” Barry blurts, before his brain catches up with the fact that Oliver is stripped down to an old grey tank top and has dirt smudged attractively across one cheek. He’s downlit by the security light on the side of the house, but it just makes the planes and valleys of his muscles more pronounced.</p><p>“I’m not,” comes the flat, unimpressed reply. </p><p>“Right, yeah. I guess the whole dead plant thing is a bit of a giveaway,” Barry teases before Oliver can stalk past him. “So why are you here, gardening in the dark anyway?” </p><p>“It’s nothing.” Oliver dismisses him and stomps back the way he came. Curiosity piqued, Barry speeds on a quick tour of the house, and the moment he sees the young boy with an action figure collection and Oliver’s eyes, it all makes sense.</p><p>“This is the Clayton house, right?” he asks, sliding to a stop beside the enormous pine tree that dominates the backyard. Oliver just nods, looking a little sheepish.</p><p>“I just figured with all this spare time on my hands I should at least try and make a difference. Samantha doesn’t like yard work, so I guess I just thought if I could tidy things up a bit, it might make her happy.” </p><p>“Plus, you can check in on William, right?” Barry says, sitting down beside Oliver on the edge of the garden bed. </p><p>“Yeah,” Oliver’s smile turns wistful as he looks up to the second floor. William is in the middle of a very elaborate drawing of The Flash, while his mother is downstairs cooking dinner. </p><p>“So, you need me to run up to the garden center for a new topiary?” Barry nudges him with his shoulder until Oliver laughs.</p><p>“Yeah, that would be… thanks. Turns out I’m better at killing things than I am at making things better,” Oliver says, voice gone soft at the end.</p><p>“Hey, come on. Don’t get all melodramatic on me. Trust me, this plant is not a metaphor for anything.” Oliver shoves him good-naturedly, and Barry fakes a pratfall into the garden bed, dragging Oliver with him into the freshly turned dirt. </p><p>“Urgh, that seemed like a better idea in my head.” Barry winces as some of the loose earth gets caught under his collar. </p><p>“Well, I was already dirty, so…” Oliver grins at him, and presses a soft kiss on the side of Barry’s nose.</p><p>“Ollie, is this… are we okay?” Barry asks, sliding tentative fingers into Oliver’s hair to brush the strands back into shape. </p><p>“Yeah, we’re okay. I guess I just felt… bad. You have been trying really hard to undo all this, and then I have one ridiculous meltdown and you came running. I need to do better if we’re going to beat this, and I can’t be a distraction for you.” </p><p>“You’re not a distraction… you’re keeping me sane. Everyday I wake up thinking maybe if I just died, that everything would go back to normal. That whatever is wrong with the world would magically get fixed. Either way, I’d be dead so it wouldn’t be my problem any more… what does that say about me, huh?” Barry closes his eyes, so he won’t see the inevitable look of disgust on Oliver’s face. Oliver always thinks the best of him, but he knows, deep down, that he’s not so perfect.</p><p>Oliver sucks in a sharp breath, and grabs Barry’s hand in a tight fist.</p><p>“Promise me if you start feeling like that, you will talk to me.” The strain of fear in his voice makes Barry feel even worse.</p><p>“I wouldn’t leave you here alone, Ollie. I would never do that, okay?” he promises, pulling Oliver’s clenched fist up to his lips. He kisses the battered knuckles, and makes a wish for both of them to find a way past this feeling of hopelessness.</p><p>Oliver is quiet for a while, but when he speaks, his voice is measured and careful.</p><p>“Do you believe it’s possible to be in love with more than one person at the same time?”</p><p>“Yeah, I do,” Barry says, thinking of Iris and Patty and all the wild turns of fate that have led him now to Oliver. He thinks of Felicity, who they both love in different ways, and how much he wants for her to be back in their lives again. </p><p>“Laurel never seemed to think so,” Oliver says, voice laced with bitter resentment.  </p><p>“I don’t know that you can compare the two of us,” Barry argues, “she thought it was the two of you against the world. I think maybe you let her down by not telling her the truth.” </p><p>Barry isn’t sure if that was the right thing to say or not, but the person Oliver was when he boarded the Queens’ Gambit is a shadow of the man he’s become. Loyalty and trust are two things he’s come to value, and Barry has no doubt that the Oliver of today would have done things differently. </p><p>“I don’t want that to happen to us.” </p><p>“It won’t. You still love Felicity, and that’s okay. Really, it is,” Barry reassures him. “She’s such a big part of our lives that I would never want that to change. Felicity knows that I have feelings for you, and while I never believed her, she always thought that you reciprocated.”</p><p>“She’s really smart,” Oliver says, and Barry feels a weight of relief at finally getting out in the open. </p><p>“I love you, Ollie. I love Iris too, I always will. But some things are right at the wrong time, and other things surprise you when you least expect it.”</p><p>Oliver is quiet for a while, and Barry just holds him close and looks up at the unmoving stars peeking out from behind unmoving clouds.</p><p>“I’ve spent my life pulled in so many directions I don’t know what I really want,” Oliver admits, finally. </p><p>Barry isn’t ashamed to admit, if only to himself, that he’s feeling much the same way. This thing between them has flared to life so vibrantly that Barry almost feels burned by the intensity. </p><p>“I don’t know what will happen when the real world starts up again. Things will be different, and we will be different. But all I know is that we need each other here and now. We have a chance to find out if this is something we really want, so I think we owe it to ourselves to take the chance.”</p><p>“You’re pretty smart too,” Oliver says, and kisses Barry slowly and thoroughly. They’re both filthy but somewhat happier when Barry pulls them out of the garden bed to go home. </p><p>He lets Oliver ride the bicycle while he perches on the handlebars, and while the journey back to Star Labs isn’t exactly fast, it’s a lot of fun. </p>
<hr/><p>After that, things are better between them. Oliver keeps himself busy around town, while Barry tries his damnedest to get through the door of the time vault. When Barry feels the pit of despair starting to beckon, he takes comfort in Oliver, letting the solid strength of him put Barry back together. Oliver in turn shares more of himself, letting Barry soothe him through the memories of past hurts and the petty everyday frustrations. Facing their demons together wasn’t what Barry had in mind when he imagined them bonding, but he finds that the common ground is a solid foundation to stand on. </p><p>Barry isn’t always sure what Oliver gets up to without him, but he has a renewed sense of purpose that makes him a heck of a lot less cranky, so Barry is just happy he’s happy. </p><p>Barry himself isn’t making much progress on his task. The thermal lance is only marginally effective, and he’s barely made any inroads into the metal door. It’s approaching dinner time now though, and he’s excited to see Oliver again after a whole day apart.</p><p>Oliver returns from his trip around the city a little earlier than usual. Barry does a double take when he sees the expensive-looking bouquet of roses Oliver has clutched in one arm. </p><p>“Hey Ollie, are those for me?” He bats his eyelashes dramatically, earning a growl and a glare that does terrible things to his self-control. Oliver, looking like that, rumbling voice and flinty eyes, is starting to border on Pavlovian for Barry.</p><p>“No, they’re for Caitlin. I stole her coffee this morning because I was too fucking tired to go searching the city for a cappuccino.” </p><p>Barry puts down the lance and follows him out into the cortex, and watches as Oliver gently cups Caitlin’s outstretched fingers around the flower stems. Barry flashes out to grab the camera, and snaps a polaroid of the three of them, capturing the soft look on Oliver’s face as he arranges the flowers just so. He also gets a good shot of Oliver’s glowering face when he realises he’s been caught in the act of being incredibly sweet. </p><p>“You’d better hope those never develop, Barry.” </p><p>“Oh come on. You just don’t want anyone to know how much of a romantic you are at heart.”</p><p>“I’ll show you romantic,” Oliver bites back, and it’s supposed to sound like a threat, but Barry just grins.</p><p>“Ok, give me your best shot, Queen. But I think I can beat you, hands down.” </p><p>“You’re serious?” Oliver frowns for a moment, as if he’s reconsidering several things all at once and realising he has miscalculated. </p><p>“I know you’re more into grunting, growling and bopping people you like on the head with clubs to drag them back to your cave or whatever, but I do actually like going to a nice dinner or going for a walk on the beach in the moonlight or whatever. Doesn’t have to be a grand gesture or anything, but it would be cool, just to pretend that everything is normal for one night.” Barry says, fighting a stab of melancholy that hits him when he remembers the last date he went on. But it’s not like it should be news to Oliver that he enjoys that kind of thing. </p><p>He loves fighting crime beside Oliver too, but taking him out to a nice restaurant is something Barry has only thought about in his most feverish of dreams. Having Oliver there in a tux, being charming like Barry knows he can, and having him put all that focus, all that intensity on Barry… well. It would be intoxicating enough to overcome his speedforce sobriety. </p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>“Okay?” Barry snaps back to reality, and Oliver is staring him in the eyes with intent. He’s not laughing either, which Barry kind of did expect. </p><p>“Okay, as in I think it’s a Saturday in a few days' time by our calendar. I’ll take you to dinner,” Oliver says, and reels him in for a kiss that is just a bit indecent for the fact that they’re standing in front of  Barry’s coworkers. </p><p>“Okay,” Barry agrees, faintly. Oliver leaves him there, looking more than a little like he’s just been run over by a steam-roller. </p><p>Jay’s eyes glimmer at him in a very judgemental manner. </p><p>“Oh come on, not all of us have the God-given game of 6 feet of muscle and blond hair,” Barry tells him, and tries to ignore the way Jay’s eyes seem to follow him back out into the hall. </p><p>He supposes it can’t hurt to take a real break from everything for one night. It’s not like anyone else is going anywhere. </p>
<hr/><p>Barry fiddles with the collar of his dress shirt, trying not to crumple it any further. He tried to find someone using an iron that he could borrow, but 7pm in the evening on what was a Tuesday night is an odd time to find someone doing their laundry. So he just pulled the neatest (and cleanest) looking clothes he could find in his closet. </p><p>Oliver had disappeared a few hours earlier, and Barry was sorely tempted to spy on him to see what he was planning for their night out. Ultimately, he decided that would be cheating, and Oliver deserved a fair chance to bowl him over. </p><p>The whole bowling over thing becomes a moot point when Barry catches sight of Oliver as he walks back into Star Labs in a black suit that has lines so sharp they could cut glass. </p><p>“Uh,” he manages, eloquently. </p><p>Oliver pulls a single rose out from behind his back. The bloom is a delicate blue colour, and matches the subtle sheen of Oliver’s tie. </p><p>Barry takes the proffered rose, and leans in for a kiss, but Oliver turns at the last moment to brush a gentlemanly peck on his cheek. Barry shivers as Oliver presses closer to murmur in his ear. Oliver tells him he looks gorgeous, and that they should get going or they’ll miss their reservation in the city.</p><p>Barry feels drunk already, but he manages to bundle his coltish legs underneath him long enough to speed the two of them into the center of town. </p>
<hr/><p>“So where exactly are we going?” Barry asks as Oliver takes him by the hand and leads him through the silent throng of shoppers and harried office workers that fills the boardwalk in the main entertainment district. </p><p>“Alta” Oliver says, and Barry almost slaps himself in the forehead. They’ve been eating sandwiches and sushi for weeks and it never occurred to Barry to hit one of the more up-market restaurants when he was bringing food back for the two of them. </p><p>“You mean to tell me we could have been eating at Michelin Star restaurants all this time? Why did I not think of that.” </p><p>Oliver laughs. “We could have, but then this evening wouldn’t have been very special if you’ve already tried the five-course tasting menu.” </p><p>“I guess it’s also technically stealing, so we probably shouldn’t leave any fingerprints on their extremely expensive flatware. I am officially living a life of crime. What have you done to me?” Barry grins as Oliver wraps an arm around his waist to guide him through the doors to a tastefully appointed room with an empty table in the corner. </p><p>“I’m afraid the service won’t be up to its usual standard, but I’ve checked the sommelier’s notes so I’m pretty confident we can find the right wine to go with it.” Oliver pulls his seat out for him, and then slides behind the bar to unearth a bottle of red wine that probably costs more than Barry’s salary for the year at the CPD. </p><p>It’s good. The wine, the food… everything except the silence around them. Barry tries not to let it bother him but that feeling is always there at the back of his mind. Oliver is as handsome as ever, and credit where credit is due, he does know how to show someone a good time. </p><p>By the end of the dessert course, Barry feels content enough not to let the guilt nag at him. If anything, Oliver deserves a bit of normalcy, and Barry is determined not to let the situation be worse than it needs to be. </p><p>Besides, if it means that Oliver is reaching for him, letting him in and drawing him closer, Barry can handle the inconvenient world-wide time-crisis. </p><p>The stumble out into the street after the final course, feeling full and happy, and a little drunk in Oliver’s case. Another bottle of red wine has been liberated by Oliver’s nimble fingers as they leave the bar to head home, but Oliver stops him when Barry reaches over to drag them back to Star Labs. </p><p>“You threw down the gauntlet Barry. You don’t think that’s all I’ve got for you do you?” Oliver smiles, drawing Barry in for a deep kiss. He can do little more than shrug in answer as the wine goes to his head anyway. </p><p>Oliver pulls away with a wet smack. “We’ll have to take the stairs, but I promise it will be worth it,” he says, pulling Barry by the hand towards one of the ritziest hotels in town. </p><p>“Oliver, wait.” Barry pulls him to a stop. Curious blue eyes that are a little hazy blink at him. “I just, I wanted to say I’m sorry—”</p><p>Oliver cuts him off with a kiss. </p><p>“I know it’s almost impossible,” Oliver says, seriously, “but we need to make the best of this. If we can have one night where I get to pretend... where I can kiss you in the street and no one cares… where we can just be together with no expectations or explosions or inconvenient supervillains… then I think we should take it, don’t you?” </p><p>Barry nods slowly, and listens to the quiet undercurrent in Oliver’s words. He’s never been one to back away from a fight, but they are both tired, and they both need to know it’s all been worth it. </p><p>“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Barry says, smiling softly. “Just promise me, when this whole thing is all over, we’ll do this again. Only next time someone else will serve us the wine, and we can dance to music or hell, I don’t know… even just sit on the beach and listen to the waves.” </p><p>“We will. We will…” Oliver kisses him to seal the agreement, and takes his hand as they continue up the street. </p><p>The penthouse suite is thirty floors up, and Oliver is a little breathless when they finally reach the top, but that could be little more than a side effect of Barry stopping them in the stairwell to make out. The security door handle is busted, with the door hanging half off its hinges. Barry raises an eyebrow, and Oliver just smirks.</p><p>“Well, the key didn’t work, so I improvised.”</p><p>When they step out into the hall, a trail of rose petals leads to a suite at the end of the row.</p><p>“I see you’ve gone all out,” Barry laughs as Oliver opens the door with a slightly drunken flourish. “I’m seeing a whole new side of you, Ollie,” he grins to soften the jibe. He should have known better than to make this into a competition. Oliver is nothing if not pathologically addicted to winning. </p><p>“Well, I’ve never had any complaints from the women I’ve dated,” Oliver says, mulish. </p><p>“Uhuh…” Barry gives him a sideways look. “What about the men?” </p><p>Oliver pauses for a moment, and Barry feels like kind of an asshole. </p><p>“Well, you would be the first, so I couldn’t draw any conclusions at this point.” </p><p>It shouldn’t make any difference, but Barry isn’t sure how he feels about that revelation. He’s not sure if he’s relieved (that Oliver is as new to this as he is) or proud (that he managed to go where no man has gone before, so to speak). </p><p>“Whatever you’re thinking…” Oliver starts, before abruptly shutting his mouth. Barry takes pity on him. </p><p>“I was just thinking that I am one lucky guy to have someone who would go to these lengths to woo me, even if it’s unnecessary and I was already more than completely wooed.”</p><p>He knows he’s said the right thing when Oliver just rolls his eyes and starts pushing Barry backwards.</p><p>“Well, in that case, just wait till you see the rest.” Oliver drags him inside and kicks the door closed behind them.</p><p>“I think it’s safe to say you’ve won the bet.” Barry hisses as Oliver pings a few shirt-buttons in his haste to help Barry out of his clothes. He steers Barry into the bathroom, and Barry almost yells in excitement.</p><p>“Holy shit!” Barry runs to the edge of the enormous tub, which is filled with bubbles and surrounded by lit candles which don’t flicker, but still cast a soft glow over the room. </p><p>“I know. We’ve been suffering in the pool and the freezing ocean or the tepid water tanks…”</p><p>“Wait, what happened to the person who rented this suite?” Barry laughs, imagining Oliver delicately extracting some rich businessman from his bathroom, or stealing lit candles from somewhere. </p><p>“Yeah, it took me a while to find someone who had run the bath but wasn’t in it. But this lady was standing by the sink in her bathrobe, so I just took her down the hall to one of the empty rooms.”</p><p>“Oh my god. She’s going to be so confused.” Barry strips off the rest of the way, and slides into the tub. “But we need it more than she does right now.” He sighs, sliding into the warm embrace of the water until his head is the only part above the surface.</p><p>“I’ll find a way to make it up to her.” Oliver says, before coming over to rest his hands on Barry’s shoulders. </p><p>“Why are you still dressed?” Barry looks up at him, and Oliver leans forward to kiss him upside down. ‘Seriously, get your ass in the tub. It’s heavenly.” Barry tugs on his tie, until Oliver gets with the program and takes it off. </p><p>The tub is huge. More than big enough for the two of them to stretch out, but Barry finds he doesn’t want to be so far away. He pulls Oliver closer, and for once, physics is on his side. </p><p>The water doesn’t even slosh over the side of the tub. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
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    <p>Barry tries not to look at it anymore, but the days marked off on the calendar on Oliver’s wall keep churning past with alarming regularity. It simultaneously feels like only a week has passed since their ill-fated experiment, and also that they’ve been living this strange pseudo-life for years.</p><p>They’ve both had birthdays since it started. Barry had dressed everyone up in Star Wars costumes and acted out all the lines he could remember for Oliver, who kept asking why Harry got to be Han Solo and not him. </p><p>Oliver had passed the anniversary of his father’s death out by the waterfront, drinking scotch and yelling into the motionless sea, while Barry watched, feeling helpless in the face of such deep pain. The vice-tight grip of his own losses had sent him staggering onto the sand beside Oliver, and together they howled their anger into the void. </p><p>And still, their dormant world persists.  </p><p>Barry has tried everything to get into the time-vault, but nothing he does can penetrate the protective barrier. The thermal lance has successfully pared the surface of the door back to its base layer, and gone no further. </p><p>He’s taken tour after tour of the city, scavenging in other labs for new tech and looking for anything that might provide a solution. The only consolation to all of this is that he’s seen no sign of Zoom anywhere, and the breach locations they’ve mapped are all standing as silent as the rest of the world. </p><p>The feeling of disappointment has been hard to shake, and Barry finds his mood dipping into darker places more often. He doesn’t want to make things worse: trying to stay positive for Oliver is taking every ounce of effort his (usually) sunny disposition can muster. </p><p>Oliver is getting savvy though, and when he presses a cold soda into Barry’s hand and orders him to take a break for some food, there’s a determined set to his shoulders. </p><p>Oliver sits down with his back against the wall to watch Barry work while he eats. Eventually, the lure of food becomes too great and Barry puts down the lance. </p><p>“This isn’t working,” Oliver says, pointing at the now-defaced wall of the time-vault. </p><p>Barry sighs. “I know. I’ve tried every angle. It just won’t fucking open.” He kicks the door for emphasis, but only really succeeds in hurting his foot. </p><p>“We can’t keep going like this. We need help.” </p><p>“I know!” Barry snaps, and instantly regrets it when Oliver frowns at him.</p><p>“I am aware of the stakes here Barry. I wouldn’t be asking if I thought there was any other way. But I’ve been stable for a while now, and apart from the fatigue and some vision issues, I haven’t had any side-effects. Waking Harry is our only option.”</p><p>“What if we’ve left it too long? He might not wake up anyway...” Barry takes a slow mouthful of his soda, trying to ignore the way the bubbles just feel wrong. </p><p>“It’s a chance we have to take. I would rather know now if we can still save them.”</p><p>And that’s the awful truth that’s been dogging Barry’s every step since he woke up here. They have no way of knowing the survivable duration of the time pause, and whether everyone will just start moving as if nothing has happened, or if the entire world will just perish in front of them.  </p><p>Barry’s never liked the implicit tragedy behind Schrodinger’s experiment, and he’s not keen to enact it on a global scale. But they need to know, one way or another. </p><p>“You’re right,” Barry says, putting the bottle down and sliding down the wall next to Oliver. “We don’t have a choice any more. I’ll wake Harry up.” </p><p>“It’s the right decision, Bear.” Oliver pats him on the leg, and offers him half of his sandwich. “It will be fine. I was okay, and Harry will be too.” </p><p>“I hope so,” Barry says, thunking his head back against the wall. “You know what that means though, right?”</p><p>“What?” </p><p>“This may be our last night of peace and quiet,” Barry smiles lopsidedly as Oliver considers the implications.</p><p>“Hmm, so what you’re saying is we should make the most of our last night alone together, before we have an audience.”</p><p>“Exactly! Hey, uh… what <em>are</em> we going to tell Harry?” Barry laughs, but Oliver just looks contemplative, brow furrowed in serious consideration.</p><p>“I think we will just rely on the fact that he’s a genius, and can figure it out for himself.”</p><p>“Roger that, no awkward conversations. Got it.” Barry grins and steals some of Oliver’s fries. </p>
<hr/><p>“For the love of God would you please chill!” Barry glares at the vigilante wearing a hole in the floor of his lab with his pacing.</p><p>“Stop wasting time and jab him, or so help me, I’ll do it myself!” Oliver glares back, daring Barry to comment. They’re both antsy about waking Harry up, but it has to be done, and no amount of pretending everything will be fine will make it so. </p><p>Barry ducks around Harry’s outstretched arm to put the injector up to the front of his skull. He hadn’t wanted to risk manipulating Harry’s body too much while in the time field in case it injures him, but getting Harry from a sitting position onto the lab bed was awkward. Now he’s stuck, listing to one side, arm stuck out in front of him. </p><p>“Here goes nothing,” Barry says, and depresses the plunger. The moment the serum enters his brain, Harry slumps back into the bed, arm falling to his side. </p><p>“What happens now?” Oliver steps closer, arms crossed and a creased expression in his brow. </p><p>“Now we wait. You’ll know when it starts to work. There’s usually flailing and crying and drooling, if it’s going to work.” Barry presses his fingers to Harry’s neck, and the dull throb of blood flow has started to move. It’s only one beat for every ten Mississippis, but the pulse is accelerating. Then, Harry starts fitting.</p><p>“Is this normal?” Oliver dives across to catch Harry’s legs before he flips himself right off the bed. </p><p>“Uh, you did pretty much the same thing.” Barry has to dodge as Harry’s hand flings past his face. </p><p>“When this is over, you and I are going to have words about your human experimentation.” Oliver’s expression turns grim as Harry lets out a wordless scream. Blood starts to gush out of both of his nostrils, and Barry has to tip him forward while he continues to thrash.</p><p>“Yeah, ok, that’s not supposed to happen,” Barry says, panicking slightly. </p><p>“Harry, can you hear me?” Oliver shouts as Barry peels Harry’s eyelids back—there is only the bottom edge of the iris visible and the rest is all white. </p><p>“He should be conscious by now, something’s wrong.” Barry puts his stethoscope up to Harry’s wildly moving chest. “Help me get him secured, we can’t let him injure himself.”</p><p>Oliver turns Wells onto his side and manages to stabilise him on the bed while Barry runs over to the medicine cabinet and draws a dose of diazepam. He speeds back to Wells, rolling up his sleeve while Oliver does his best to hold him still. With a bit of speed-force intervention, Barry finds a vein and manages to get the drugs into his system.</p><p>It’s a long two minutes before Harry’s movements subside and Barry can attend to the bloody nose and check his vitals. Harry’s heart rate has settled back to a safe rate, and when Barry affixes the manual blood-pressure cuff to his arm, his eyes droop open. </p><p>“Allen?” Harry’s words are slurred, and he blinks a few times before shutting his eyes tightly.</p><p>“Can you squeeze my hand?” Barry grabs him by the hand and grips his fingers, relieved when there is a weak squeeze back. </p><p>“You need to rest now, but I promise once you’re feeling better we’ll go through all of it, okay.” </p><p>Wells slips out of consciousness again, apparently just waiting for the approval to do so. His breathing stabilises and his blood pressure is not too low when Barry releases the cuff, despite the medication. </p><p>“Fuck,” Oliver says, letting go of Wells’ legs and standing up again. “Is he going to be okay?”</p><p>“It’s too soon to tell, but I really hope so.” Barry rubs a tired hand over his face. "You weren’t much different, apart from the nose-bleed.”</p><p>“He nearly knocked me out with that fucking left knee.” Oliver glares at the lumpen form on the bed with mild apprehension.</p><p>“Yeah, well, let's just say that it’s a good thing I have super-speed or you would have head-butted me into the next county.” Barry offers him a faint smile. “I need to watch him until he wakes up again. It may take a while so you don’t have to sit here the whole time.”</p><p>“I’ll make him something to eat… I’d say he’ll be pretty hungry when he does wake up.” </p><p>“Yeah, good idea. Don’t go too far, okay? If he seizes again, I’ll probably need some help.” Oliver nods, and reaches over with a one-armed hug. Barry lets the warmth and the strength of him ease the tension he’s been holding onto since he pulled the trigger. </p><p>“No matter what, you’ve made the right choice,” Oliver says, and presses a kiss against the crown of his head. </p><p>“Let’s hope so.” </p>
<hr/><p>It turns out that Harry and consciousness don’t mix well. Upon waking again, he rages at Barry for ten minutes about the headache and the nausea, and the blurry vision. When he finally does pause to draw breath, Barry manages only two words before he’s off again on a tangent about Cisco stealing his favourite screw-driver which is only partially sensical. </p><p>“Jesus, is he always like this?” Oliver asks as he comes back to the lab, sandwiches in hand. </p><p>“Pretty much,” Barry manages before Wells starts shouting over him.</p><p>“Who’s there? Allen! Who else is here? If it’s Ramon...” Harry’s head swivels around to look blindly in Oliver’s direction, and continues muttering angrily to himself.</p><p>“Yeah, he can’t see much and is having a bit of a paranoid breakdown, but otherwise, I think he’s fine. Harry—”</p><p>“—thinks he’s smart enough to get away with blatant theft—”</p><p>“Harry! I need you to calm down. I’m here with Oliver. He’s brought you some food.”</p><p>Harry stops then, and cocks his head to the side as a ripple of lucidity finally creeps into his expression. He puts a hand out in front of him, until his fingertips touch the plate Oliver is holding.</p><p>“Why is The Arrow bringing me food?”  </p><p>Barry gives him a rundown of everything that’s happened since Harry injected Barry with the serum, with some heavily redacted parts about what he and Oliver have been up to in the meantime. By the end, he can see Harry’s mind starting to form hypotheses and make connections as he sends Oliver out to find him a whiteboard and some pens. </p><p>He eats the sandwich, and by the time he’s finished he’s able to tell how many fingers Barry is holding up with a hundred percent accuracy. His balance, however, is not so good. </p><p>Though it pangs in an odd way to see it, Barry fetches him one of his doppleganger’s old wheelchairs. Once mobile, Wells starts to scribble wildly on the board. </p><p>Barry tries to wrestle the pen out of his hand a few hours later to enforce a nap, but after the fifth basic arithmetic error, Harry finally acquiesces and promises to be less stupid once he’s had some sleep.  </p><p>Barry himself is in dire need of some serious melatonin before he turns into a pod-person, and the more time he spends away from Oliver, the more he realises how much he misses him. </p><p>Harry is quiet as Barry accompanies him down the hallway to his quarters.</p><p>"If you need anything, just holler. I'm crashing out in the other living quarters, so I'm not far away."</p><p>"You don't need to worry about me, I'm more than familiar with the serum and its effects," Harry says, and isn't too mindful of Barry's shins when he wheels past him to get into the room. </p><p>"It's not that... This world, its... it affects you. In ways you can't predict. I'm just saying that if you need us, we're here." </p><p>"If I start talking to inanimate objects and writing on the walls, you'll be the first to know." Harry gives him a sardonic grin and pointedly closes the door in his face.</p><p>Barry is worried, almost worried out of his mind that Harry will have a clot or an aneurysm or will just drop dead in his sleep. But short of barging in and setting himself up at the end of Harry's bed to watch him, he has no choice but to let it go. He has to respect the fact that Harry might want some time alone to process what's happened. </p><p>He waits until he hears the bedsprings creak, signalling that Harry is probably safe enough to leave unattended. He speeds back to the room he shares with Oliver.</p><p>Oliver is asleep when he arrives, but wakes the moment Barry enters the room. While he's a heavy sleeper when he knows Barry is with him, alone, he wakes at the slightest sound.</p><p>"How'd it go with Harry?"</p><p>"He seems stable, and while I can only partially keep up with him, I think we've made some progress. What about you? It's been a big day." Barry pulls off his shirt and jeans, and all but falls face first onto the bed. It jostles Oliver who grunts at him, and then rolls over to pin him down with a heavy arm.</p><p>"I'm fine. Tired. Stop moving. Sleep."</p><p>"Jeeze, fine. I'm sleeping." Barry smiles despite himself, and burrows into Oliver's side. </p><p>For the first time since he woke up, there is a cautious ray of hope, and his mind starts tripping over scenarios and possibilities. The possibility of seeing his friends again. The possibility of exploring the world beyond Central City with Oliver. Being able to tell everyone about how amazing Oliver is and how much he loves him. It's all there in visions of startling clarity.</p><p>Even with his thoughts still racing, Barry finds sleep comes abruptly. The heaviness of unconsciousness takes him down hard, and his dreams aren't the blessed reprieve that he was hoping for.</p>
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